Alone victorious
by Mischief Mage
Summary: Oneshot. The huns have been defeated. Everyone has everything they could possibly want, except Ling. A look into the mind of a sidekick soldier because he needs more love. Enjoy!


**Mischief Mage: **Hey there! I wrote this because i couldn't go to sleep and because i think Ling deserves more love. Lots more! It does make Ling seem alot more angsty but a guy needs a little angst here and there i think. Whatever you think of the idea of a onesided Ling/Mulan relationship, it was fun write, i hope you enjoy!

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Life is good on the winning side. Ling turned over his double bed, making himself more comfortable under the puffy blankets and pillows. His armour and sword was hanging on a mannequin in the corner, overlooking their owner. A red medallion lay on his bedside table, proof of his contribution to the salvation of the prosperous middle kingdom. On the royal red background, a golden, royal dragon was imprinted, spiralling out from the centre. He picked it up.

Ling had run his finger along the outline many a time over the past few days. He did so again. The tips of his calloused fingers knew every ridge and valley in its golden being. But, despite the honour, the wealth and the pride that the medallion signified, he couldn't bring himself to like it. Now, as he tossed and turned in bed after three nights in his new house on the land gifted to him by the emperor, he realised that he wasn't what it really wanted.

The only joy that Ling took from his prize was that the medallion was the same as that of Mulan's. Even as he thought this he groaned. It was stupid. What a stupid thing to get worked up about. It was pointless to set his sights on such a far off…target?

Sighing, the soldier stared up at the roof. Sometimes, it's useless to dream but that won't stop the mind from wandering. He'd missed his chance. Captain Shang was a far greater man than he; physically and economically with a proud lineage. Plus Mulan seemed to like him. That was a big part of it.

There's no harm in thinking at what could have been now that there's no chance of it. When had he first noticed Mulan…or Ping? His brow furrowed. To be honest, he hadn't actually paid Ping much attention during the first fight. He'd been looking for a scrap. Being with Yao did that to a man.

It wasn't until a little bit after that, after Ping had been singled out as the whelp at the bottom of the military heap. Ling admitted that he had been intrigued. Ling had seen the shadow of something that had awakened his male interest as nothing had before. And what better way to gain the attention of the underdog without being called a pansy? Give it another kick; the beetle, the rocks and that incident with the canon. Perhaps it was a flawed philosophy, but it had been all he could think of at the time.

Besides, they had become friends hadn't they? They'd made it up to eachother. Marching to the village in the mountains had been one of the highlights of the adventure; freedom, companionship and all that jazz.

_But there had been something before that…_

Ling flicked his hair out of his face as he tried to remember. It came to him.

The thought caused him to sit bolt-upright in bed, the flush in his cheeks hidden under the veil of dark in the room.

_The waterhole._

Ohhhh maaaaannn. He and the guys had made it up to Ping while bathing in the waterhole. Now he realised, he and the guys had made it up to _Mulan_ while bathing in the waterhole.

The man slapped himself hard on the forehead, trying to knock out the vastly conflicting emotions that had decided that his head was an apt party venue. Ling felt strangely violated although not in altogether a bad way. He was a strapping young man…well, perhaps not strapping. Alright, he was a virile young man. The idea that he had been bathing with a beautiful woman in a waterhole under the moonlight was not a bad fantasy.

His fingers twitched just as they had slightly when he had first touched her skin. It had been soft; soft compared to the coarseness of his hands. But that was just the thing, wasn't it? It was a sad cliché, but she was like a blossom of spring. Captain Shang was a tree which held her up high, just as she deserved. Ling? He turned the medallion over in his hand. An obscure reflection appeared. Ling didn't even feature. He was too…happy-go-lucky for this little scene, a boy, a common foot soldier always good for a laugh.

However. The shadow of a smile crept along the face of his image. This soldier was ahead of the captain in one thing. Even though he hadn't known it at the time, he had been physically closer to Mulan than anyone so far. It was a secret treasure, one that had a safe alcove to sit in just above his heart in his chest. It was small and short-lived. Captain Shang was charming, handsome, noble, _young._ It wouldn't take long for him and Mulan to get it together. The saviour of China and her beloved Captain. It would be the perfect happy ending.

But what of the comedic side character?

He would go to her wedding; clap and cheer with everyone else; slap the Captain on the shoulder and congratulate him; he would hold Mulan close as a friend but say farewell as one wishing for more. He could have her as a friend. As for the rest, he would always have the memories. It was ironic really. Most soldiers were trying to forget the war. He had gone in search of adventure and honour, finding instead love unrequited. For every happy ending there had to be tragedy. The world commanded balance.

Pulling the covers up higher, Ling lay down on his side, medallion still in hand. He looked over his reflection again, finally he rested it on the pillow next to him in such away that it caught the light and might fool his tired eyes that he was not alone.


End file.
